


hooked on a feelin'

by legendaryguitarman



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, GASP!, M/M, Misunderstandings, and chanyeol is an assbag, except not really, gay stuff happens, kris is awkward and scared of ksoo, ksoo is a self-deprecating little shit, kyungsoo expletes every expletive ever to explete, tw: jongdae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendaryguitarman/pseuds/legendaryguitarman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo doesn't know what he'd been thinking when he'd agreed to be Chanyeol's plus-one-cum-fake boyfriend to Chanyeol's cousin's wedding. No, actually, he knows exactly what he'd been thinking: Fuck this, fuck you, and fuck me. God, those biceps do <i>things</i> to Kyungsoo.</p><blockquote>
  <p>“Ugh, fine, whatever,” Kyungsoo says. “Just get out of here already.”</p>
  <p>Chanyeol salutes him at the door and hollers across the room, “Laters, babe. Don’t forget the supplies! It’s gonna be a long night. Don’t be stingy with the lube!”</p>
  <p>It echoes. Of course it fucking echoes. All Kyungsoo can hear for the next five minutes is, <i>Don’t be stingy with the lube! Don’t be stingy with the lube! Don’t be stingy with the lube…with the lube…the lube…lube…</i></p>
  <p>He fucking hates Park Chanyeol.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. shit goes down, part i

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively entitled: gay stuff happens and kyungsoo cries about it probably  
> alternatively alternatively entitled: wah wah why doesn't chanyeol love me whine boohoo wah
> 
> this will be updated soon because it is not going to be that long. also i just wanted to do a chaptered fic because #yolo

It’s three AM and Kyungsoo is halfway through highlighting the second law of thermodynamics when Park Chanyeol comes trotting up to his nice, quiet table in the nice, quiet corner of the library, and slams a can of Starbucks Doubleshot Energy Mocha drink on the table with the ferocity of ten semi-finalist dance moms. Why he’s studying at buttfuck o’clock, Kyungsoo has no idea; why Chanyeol has clearly just woken up—five-day hoodie with the university’s emblem, bed head and puffy eyes—purely to annoy him, Kyungsoo doubly has no idea.

“What,” he says, without looking up from his notes, “do you want?”

Chanyeol clutches at his chest in mock-offence. Damn, Kyungsoo’d hoped he’d real-offended Chanyeol. Maybe then he would screw off and leave Kyungsoo alone.

“What makes you think I want something from you? Can’t I visit my good ol’ buddy Kyungsoo without having ulterior motives?”

At that, Kyungsoo looks at him and raises his left eyebrow in an arc more elegant than Stephen Curry’s eighteenth shot in the 2013 New York Knick’s game.

“Goodbye,” he says. Order has become disorder. Blue seems like a good colour for the third law.

“No, wait!” Chanyeol says hurriedly. “I have. Um. Something to ask.”

He drops himself into the empty seat opposite Kyungsoo’s and slumps down, looking all too tired of whatever shit is going down in his life that Kyungsoo could literally not give one goshdarned wankstain about because 3.8 GPA, harsh truth about reality crashing down on him, crippling fear of becoming a hobo, or worse yet, the victim of Joonmyun’s charity, et cetera. It’d better not be a favour because Kyungsoo really doesn’t want to use his Please Leave Right This Instant or This Pen Will Go Straight Up Your Rectum and I Really Like This Pen face, and him and Chanyeol? They aren’t really friends anyway. Kyungsoo is like the guy Chanyeol hangs out with when everyone else is busy and he’s already gotten three stars on all the Grand Prix cups in Mario Kart 1 to 8 for the fifth time. Chanyeol is like the guy Kyungsoo is forced to hang out with when everyone else is busy and Chanyeol’s gotten bored of playing through all the Mario Kart games for the fifth time. And he’s also the same guy that Kyungsoo regularly bangs on a biweekly basis.

Okay, so they’re not friends. But they’re friends-with-benefits. Except not really. They’re more like…enemies-with-benefits? Except they’re not really like that either, because Kyungsoo hates a million and one things about Chanyeol but, ugh, he doesn’t hate _Chanyeol._ They’re more like I’d-rather-get-bitten-by-a-vampire-and-become-immortal-whilst-shoving-a-screwdriver-up-my-anal-passage-for-the-rest-of-the-eternity-I’m-doomed-to-live-only-that-sounds-kind-of-painful-so-you’ll-have-to-do-with-benefits because Chanyeol is what society calls ‘a waste of space and also an utter piece of shit’, but he has a nice dick.

It starts when everyone in their mutual friendship group starts this massive circlejerk of being in cocksucking shenanigans with each other and Jongdae bounces off to China on a cultural exchange trip. The last words Kyungsoo had said to Jongdae when he’d seen Jongdae off in the airport were, “This is awfully expensive way to find out that being a Chinese cumdump is the same as being a Korean cumdump,” and Jongdae had punched him squarely on the nose by the seating area before blowing him a kiss from the check-in queue. Kyungsoo’s nose is still a little crooked. He wears it like a war trophy, which goes well with his patented Awkward Fifth Wheel look.

Somewhere between the first month of that happening and Kyungsoo eating his first ever Pop-Tart, which Jongdae’s Chinese-Canadian friend-exchange-dudey-thing gives him as a peace offering, everyone ditches both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to have a huge, jizz-filled orgy or something, like fuck if Kyungsoo knows because why else would everyone coincidentally have an excuse to bail on movie night all at the same time? They watch through _The Little Mermaid, The Lion King,_ three of the _Die Hard_ s and ten minutes into the fourth, Chanyeol puts the television on mute and says, “Wanna watch something else get hard?”

In hindsight, Kyungsoo thinks that this had just been an incredibly, long-winded game of Hide the Sausage and someone had figured that one of them ought’ve won by now.

“And why would I want to do that?” says Kyungsoo. His mouth dries up. Chanyeol looks hot in dark when Kyungsoo can’t see his smug bitch-face.

“Because I’m gonna suck your dick, dude.”

“And why would I let you do that?”

“Well, for starters, I like sucking dick,” says Chanyeol. Oh, and this is also how Kyungsoo finds out Chanyeol is gay, which is like the biggest fucking surprise of the century because hitting on girls and actually getting their numbers for some inexplicable reason Kyungsoo cannot fathom is like breathing to Chanyeol. “And for seconders,” he leans forward and waggles his eyebrows, “I’m really good at it.”

Kyungsoo says, “No, fuck off, as if I would ever let those beaver-teeth near my wang,” and Chanyeol cries from the immense sadness at the rejection from having a taste of Kyungsoo’s delectable manmeat and all is good with the world.

Oh, wait. He doesn’t.

He actually mumbles out, “Okay,” and Chanyeol sucks his dick, which he will not graphically describe because that is much too explicit for this rating, and all is good for about twenty seconds in the afterglow and Chanyeol’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and for some even more inexplicable reason, things get better when Kyungsoo jacks him off and Chanyeol comes over Kyungsoo’s fist with a face Kyungsoo still jerks off to in the shower to this day.

But Kyungsoo digresses.

A quick recap after that tangent: buttfuck o’clock, disruptive Chanyeol, Chanyeol wanting to ask something and being weirdly nervous, cue long flashback. If Kyungsoo’s life were a three-hundred page epic memoir, he would’ve just saved you five seconds of scrolling up. You’re welcome.

“Spit it out,” says Kyungsoo when Chanyeol’s still hesitating. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Okay, jeez, calm down. Your blood pressure’s higher than—“

“Say the fucking thing,” Kyungsoo says, pairing it with a glare to make it extra effective. It works.

Chanyeol sighs and slings an arm over the back of his chair. Oh, sweet holy lord, even that irritates Kyungsoo because Chanyeol looks like some 1950s greaser dude and Kyungsoo cannot believe he has let this guy dingledongle him before.

“Here’s the deal. Basically, my cousin’s having her wedding next weekend and I RSVP’d with a plus-one because. Spur of the moment. Gotta live life on the edge, y’know? Be spontaneous and shit. I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to seem like a lame, loner loser who sits by himself at the kiddie table whilst everyone else is mackin’ it over the cake.”

“You don’t seem like a lame, loner loser,” Kyungsoo interjects. “You _are_ a lame, loner loser.”

Chanyeol kicks him under the table. Worth it.

“Anyway, I don’t actually have a plus-one, so I freaked out for a bit, right? Like, oh shit, everyone’s gonna expect me to turn up with my girlfriend because they still think I’m straight and not single, but then Baekhyun was like, dude, this is the perfect opportunity to kill two spiders with one stone because I like birds. Birds are the shit. So. Yeah. Um. Wanna be my plus-one and, uh, whilst you’re at it, be my boyfriend?”

“Uh huh,” says Kyungsoo. “And you thought three AM would be the best time to ask me that.”

Now Kyungsoo remembers why he studies at buttfuck o’clock. This is exactly the reason why Kyungsoo only takes night classes and has pretty much embarked on his journey to become a nocturnal creature of the night who studies at dead hours in the morning: to avoid people like Chanyeol coming up to him and splashing coffee over his flashcards and spewing inane drivel whilst he is trying to maintain his 3.8 GPA. 

“Three AM is the best time for doing shit you’re not gonna chicken out of because you're too tired to realise how dumb of an idea it is,” Chanyeol says wisely. “So, how about it? Be my boyfriend?”

The tips of his ears are red. Kyungsoo deliberately thinks that it’s not cute at all, not in this universe and not in any parallel universes ever to exist ever.

“Okay, one question,” he says.

“Shoot.”

“Why on this filthy, moron-infested planet would I want to be your boyfriend?”

“Oh,” says Chanyeol. He grins and absentmindedly scratches the scar on his arm that he’d told Kyungsoo he’d gotten when he was six and had fallen off the swings in the park after the eighth time they’d fucked and Kyungsoo had stayed ‘til the morning. His teeth shine in the artificial library lighting because he uses crappy whitening toothpaste for his Colgate smile, but at least Kyungsoo knows him enough to know that it’s fake. His eyes don’t crinkle up into mismatched crescents like they usually do, and his voice sounds flat when he says, “Haha, yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll get going, then. You’ve got your 3.5 GPA and stuff to get on with.”

He stands up and pulls his hood over his head as he pushes the chair back under the table and begins to walk to the exit. Kyungsoo knows a lot of things, from every single character Sugita Tomokazu has voiced to every element on the Periodic Table. He doesn’t know how a six-foot gangly boy with ridiculously defined biceps can look like a tiny, kicked puppy. Goddammit. He knows where this is going. He cannot stop it from going. It’s going. It’s goddamn freakin’ going.

“Come back. I didn’t say no,” says Kyungsoo. "And it's 3.8, actually."

Chanyeol whips around quickly and looks at Kyungsoo hopefully.

It’s gone.

“Sit down, you look like a dork,” Kyungsoo says. Damn his weak spot for tall gangly boys with stupidly firm biceps!

Chanyeol is smiling for real as he sits back down, lopsided and unrestrained. “I don’t look like a dork,” he says. “I am a dork.”

“Preach it, sister,” Kyungsoo says. “So, hypothetically, if I agree, what do I get out of this deal? Entice me. I am not doing this for free.”

“My everlasting love and affection?” Chanyeol suggests.

“Beep-boop, wrong answer, game over, goodbye.”

“Fine,” says Chanyeol. “My entire _Friends_ box set.”

“You’re letting me borrow it? I could stream that shit for free on Jongdae’s Netflix within this month before his free trial ends if I wanted to watch it.”

“No.” Chanyeol leans in and lowers his voice as he whispers conspiratorially, “I’m letting you _have_ it. Ah, the things I do for love.”

“…Oh damn, I can’t say no to that,” says Kyungsoo. “Fine.”

“Fine what?”

“Fine, I’ll be your stupid boyfriend-slash-plus-one or whatever, god, Jesus fuck,” says Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol lets out a loud whoop and a cheer. The weird dog kid in the year below, Jongin, throws an eraser at Chanyeol’s head. Chanyeol stops whooping and cheering, but he doesn’t stop grinning. “Okay, cool. That’s cool. I’m cool. Cool. As ice. As leftover pizza from the fridge. As—“

“Oh my god, shut up,” says Kyungsoo. “Out of curiosity, why didn't you just ask Baekhyun to go with you or something? I’m sure he’d love the free food because he’s a freeloading little shitbag.”

“Why would I ask Baekhyun?” says Chanyeol. He has his Confused Puppy face on, which makes Kyungsoo feel the least violent rage out of all of Chanyeol’s puppy faces. “Besides, he has a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but he’s, like, your best bro. I’m sure he would’ve gone with you as a favour or something.”

“But I don’t like him…?”

Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo squints at Chanyeol. He left his glasses in his apartment.

 _Oh my tittyfuck,_ thinks Kyungsoo. Chanyeol is beyond stupid. He has transcended levels of stupid and established a whole new level of stupid. Stupidity on the astral plane, if you will. Stupidsville, population: one. Chanyeol is probably just doing this to fuck with him and this time, unlike all the other one-too-many times, it’s metaphorical. Kyungsoo simultaneously facepalms and takes the zeroth law’s highlight virginity with his big, red throbbing Stabilo Boss Original.

“Ugh, whatever,” he says. “Just get out of here already. If I have to look at your horrid visage any longer, I fear I may have to gouge out my retinas with my own bare hands.”

Chanyeol salutes him at the door and hollers across the room, “Laters, babe. I love you, honey. See you at home, my darling. Don’t forget the supplies! It’s gonna be a long night. Don’t be stingy with the lube!”

It echoes. Of course it fucking echoes. All Kyungsoo can hear for the next five minutes is, _Don’t be stingy with the lube! Don’t be stingy with the lube! Don’t be stingy with the lube…with the lube…the lube…lube…_

He sinks into his seat in mortification and turns bright red when Weird Dog Boy winks at him, but he still can’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

He fucking hates Chanyeol.

 

* * *

 

Kyungsoo forgets about the deal he has made with the Devil all the way up to the evening a few days before the wedding when he’s cooking spaghetti for dinner. His life is relatively and suspiciously peaceful until six forty-eight PM when his phone bleeps and Kris, the exchange student, jumps out of his skin in the conjoined living room. It’s kind of funny because he’s, like, taller than Chanyeol with these angry eyebrows Kyungsoo is ninety-nine percent sure are inhabited by an undiscovered species of small animal, but he’s so…twitchy. Like a frightened little deer. Kyungsoo is not that scary. Well, maybe he is. All his clothes are internationally shipped from Hot Topic.

“It’s just my phone,” says Kyungsoo, smiling reassuringly.

Kris half-smiles back and turns to his laptop again where Kyungsoo knows he’s writing homoerotic slash fiction about some Chinese celebrity called Z.TAO. It is something Kyungsoo wishes he never knew. He regrets the day he’d gotten curious about why Kris never lets anyone look at his laptop and sneaked onto it whilst Kris was showering. He knows the horrific truth now.

Kyungsoo turns the heat down and checks his message. Oh god, it’s from Chanyeol. Hell is real and Kyungsoo is burning in its fiery depths whilst his heart rate kicks up a few notches unintentionally and he feels warm in his stomach as he remembers the Thing. Why are his body parts betraying him like this!? He treats his body like a temple. Albeit an abandoned, rundown temple in the outskirts of nowhere, but still a temple. This is treason of the highest degree.

 _hey babe don’t forget to rent a tux! or i guess if you already have one don’t rent one haha,_ it reads, along with ‘deets’ about the time when they’re going to set off. Apparently, Chanyeol has a “thing” beforehand so Kyungsoo will have to trek the ten blocks from his apartment to Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s dorm on campus and wait for him there before Chanyeol drives them both to the wedding. Trust him to make things unnecessarily complicated like that. At the end of the text, Chanyeol has added a few _xoxox_ kisses for ironic purposes and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

He replies with, _OK,_ and goes back to cooking. He chops up the frankfurters and does not heed the gentle heating instructions on the packet, instead tossing them in the pan with the aggression and fury of adult Simba when he found out Scar intentionally killed Mufasa and bitchslapped that fucker off the cliff.

“Hey, dinner’s on the table, okay? Just eat it whenever,” he says to Kris as he takes his own plate into his room and checks his Skype on his laptop. Thank god Jongdae is online. He might be insufferable in real life as a roommate, but he is Kyungsoo’s romantic confidant and the only person who knows that Kyungsoo and Chanyeol have touched each other’s censored parts. Not because Kyungsoo intentionally told him—as he predicted, Jongdae finding out has only led to his embarrassment and humiliation, which was precisely what Kyungsoo was trying to avoid—but because after Chanyeol kept coming out of his room with a limp and a dumb grin on his face, Jongdae caught on. And thus began many months extremely personally intrusive questions and harassment about the sordid details of their illicit love affair.

Apparently, Jongdae has the same idea as him because Jongdae is calling him first, and Kyungsoo clicks on the green button to accept, letting his lips curl up when he sees his best friend on screen, in his pyjamas and wrapped up in a blanket. He misses Jongdae, even though Jongdae is an awful human being, because Kyungsoo’s sort of awful too. Jongdae listens to him complain and whine about how everything in this world is terrible and how everything pisses him off and Kyungsoo misses having a roommate that actually talks to him and isn’t constantly terrified to be in his presence, even if that roommate likes making sexual innuendos way too much and leaves his socks everywhere.

“CONGRATULATIONS!!!!” yells Jongdae, producing a party popper from the swathes of his comforter and popping that party.

“You don’t have to shout, you know,” says Kyungsoo, wincing because he has headphones on as to not disturb his weak-hearted Chinese-Canadian friend.

“No, I do!” Jongdae says. “My two best friends are now in amorous cahoots with each other! Yay! At last, after three million years!”

“So he already told you, huh? Ugh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” says Kyungsoo. “I can’t believe he asked me to be his fake boyfriend just to go to his stupid wedding. I can’t believe I agreed. I’m so stupid. This is stupid.”

“Wait, what? Fake boyfriend?”

“Uh, yeah? I mean, he did say he didn’t want to look like a loser in front of his family, so I guess he just wants me to make him look good or something, as arm candy. I just don’t get why he asked me. He could’ve asked literally anyone else. What about Minseok? Minseok’s a way better choice. He smiles at people. Chanyeol knows I’m just going to glare at everyone and shove hors d'oeuvres into my pockets.”

“Oh,” says Jongdae, and then, “ _oh,_ ” in realisation like he’s finally managed to get something through that thick skull of his. “Oh, I see. This is great, holy shit.” Kyungsoo scowls at him. Jongdae clears his throat and wipes the smarmy look off his face, though Kyungsoo can tell he is trying really hard not to smirk. “Sorry. I mean, oh no, this sucks. Want to talk about it?”

“No,” says Kyungsoo. “Feelings suck. Feelings are the chlamydia of the brain.”

“All that talk about being a slut for knowledge has come to bite you in the ass,” Jongdae replies, amused. “Tell me more.”

Kyungsoo groans and has to physically stop himself from smooshing his face into his spaghetti. “I don’t know. I just. I have these feelings! And I don’t like them!”

“I can tell that we’re going nowhere with this. Okay, uh. Have you ever considered that why you’re having feelings about being Chanyeol’s fake boyfriend is, ipso facto, a sign of your—ah, how do I put this without you using my air miles and hopping on the first plane here to punch me?—romantic inclination towards him?”

“Implying…?”

“Implying that you like him so you don’t just want to be his fake boyfriend for one day. You want to be his real boyfriend for many, many days until you grow old together and tend to the daffodils outside your old people’s bungalow in case you fall down the stairs and you can’t get up.”

“Hmm,” says Kyungsoo. “Have you ever considered that ipso facto _fuck you_?”

“I would love you to, if the prayers to the deities Chanyeol keeps screaming through my walls are any indication of your sexual prowess, but alas! Our tryst may never bloom into fruition as our hearts are countries apart.”

“Oh my god, fuck you. Fuck you so much. Fuck you with your stupid Chinese-Canadian friend’s massive unlubed cock.”

“What can I say? I love the D and the D loves me,” Jongdae says.

“I can’t believe people like you are allowed to breed.”

“That is why I am gay, my dear,” says Jongdae, winking. “Besides, if you actually fucked me, I think Chanyeol would throw a tantrum.”

“Why would he do that?”

Jongdae smiles knowingly. “Why do you think he would do that?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question.”

“Why can’t I answer your question with another qu—“

Kyungsoo hangs up.

He just wanted some Helpful Advice and now his mood has gone rapidly downhill. He forgot how insufferable Jongdae’s bullshit was. He isn’t an idiot. Jongdae is implying that he likes Chanyeol. Which is, okay, fine, true. At first, Kyungsoo had been all like, _I like the dick, but not anything else attached to the dick_ , which quickly became, _I like the dick and I guess his arms are really nice too_ , which became, _I like the dick and I guess he’s kind of funny when he’s not being an ass_ , which became, _I like the dick and he’s kind of funny even when he’s being an ass_ , which eventually became, _I like him. And his dick._ But Chanyeol is different. Chanyeol is an asshole and he doesn’t do this relationship stuff. Because he’s hot, he knows girls and boys alike will flock to him. Because he’s hot and he’s smart and he’s funny and he’s good at sports and has an amazing smile that will do things to your heart even if it’s stone cold like Kyungsoo’s, everyone is at least a tiny bit attracted to him. He strings guys on and has one night stands and flings and Kyungsoo has seen it happen.

He thinks perhaps the reason why he feels…uneasy about being Chanyeol’s anything is because he’s scared of becoming another tool in Chanyeol’s long line of faceless guys he fucks because he _can._ And maybe even more so because on some level, with them being friends-with-benefits, his face is already blurred out in Chanyeol’s mind. And isn’t it just so coincidental that Chanyeol is asking for something more when his cousin’s wedding is right around the corner, when it’s good for only him?

And even if Jongdae is saying that Chanyeol likes him, does that really matter? Because doesn’t Chanyeol like everyone? And perhaps, the truth is, Kyungsoo is just mad because on some level, right from the start, he knew this would happen, and he let it run away from him like everything else, and now he’s just grasping onto the _what ifs_ and hoping for the impossible. Because in the end, wasn’t Kyungsoo just convenient? When everyone else had each other, and only him and Kyungsoo were left, didn’t he just feel sorry for Kyungsoo and let the small, lonely guy fuck him because he pitied him? _Killing two birds with one stone,_ Chanyeol had said. Because doesn’t he just act like life is a big game and getting the angry dude who hates everyone to go with him to a wedding is like some special medal achievement?

Oh shit.

Oh table-flippin’-shit.

Kyungsoo is so screwed.

Suddenly, Kyungsoo doesn’t feel hungry anymore. Jongdae’s chat window flashes on his screen. He’s offline, but his last message reads, _think about it. but don’t think about it too hard. you’ll end up doubting yourself. i’ll ttyl, can’t type anymore, got lube on my keyboard, time to get rawed by some hot daddy dick. love you <3 _Kyungsoo does feel a little bit better as he rolls to his door in his desk chair because fuck walking, and gets up to put his plate in the kitchen. Kris is sitting at the table, eating ice cream, and even sitting, he seems like a giant. He offers Kyungsoo a gummy smile and tentatively pats Kyungsoo’s head.

“Everything okay?” he asks. “You look…” He pauses, trying to think of the Korean word for whatever he’s thinking. “Um. Worried?”

“I’m fine,” says Kyungsoo. “Or I will be. I just need time to get over myself, I guess.”

“Oh,” says Kris. “Good luck? Um. Use protection. And stuff.”

If the scared exchange roommate is talking to him and giving him advice on how to have safe sex, then Kyungsoo is majorly capital-S Screwed.

God, he’s such a fuckup.


	2. intermission: the shit has reached terminal velocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Comprehensive Compilation of Things that Do Kyungsoo Hates About Park Chanyeol.

#1: He ate Kyungsoo’s Pop-Tart once. That is the most unforgivable of crimes.

#2. He has a scattering of freckles across his left cheek, but none on his right. It’s like a cluster of little stars on his cheeks that only come out when it’s sunny instead of at night. That irritates Kyungsoo to no end. It’s like, why do you have to have weird freckles? Why can’t your freckles be normal like everyone else’s freckles?

#3. The Dimple. Oh, god. The Dimple.

#4. His arms are _ludicrously_ toned. Those biceps could win _Korea’s Next Top Model_ by themselves, single-handedly. Arm-edly. Whatever. The point is, they sexually awaken the fire in Kyungsoo’s loins and nothing should sexually awaken the fire in Kyungsoo’s loins except tasteful pornography and 2D anime tennis boys.

#5. On the mornings that Kyungsoo stays after they screw around together, Chanyeol always smothers him with full-bodied cuddles. The last time Kyungsoo checked, he liked breathing, thank you very much.

#6. He has a car that his older brother passed down to him and he’s named it—sorry, her—Allen Walker, after his favourite character and as a funny joke because she’s called Walker but she’s a car. Or something. It’s not very funny and Kyungsoo makes sure to tell Chanyeol that every time Chanyeol gives him a ride. And also whenever he gets into Chanyeol’s car. Haha, now _that’s_ some quality humour! (Also, everyone knows Kanda is the best. Kanda’s hot. Allen’s a woobie.)

#7. He plays piano. And guitar. And drums. And the flute. And the trumpet. And the trombone. And the cello. And the viola. And the didgeridoo. And he can sing. And he can rap. And he’s got a voice like a sex god. And he’s good at basketball. And football. And the other kind of football. And swimming. And running. And taekwondo. And he can cook well. Just, why.

 

…..

…..

…..

 

#148. Chanyeol has very selective tastes. He has very weird interests, like hip-hop-trot mashups and unironically liking bad movies, and makes these obscure, esoteric references all the time, which no one gets except Kyungsoo because Kyungsoo likes the same obscure, esoteric shit.

#149. He never says bye normally. Instead of saying ‘goodbye’ or ‘see you’ like a regular person, he always says, ‘laters.’ Plural. Laters. Why so many laters? Too many laters.

#150. He is just too damn easy to fall in love with.

#151. Kyungsoo hates that he’s in love with Chanyeol.

#152. Kyungsoo hates that what they’re going to have for one day isn’t even real.

#153. Kyungsoo hates that he’s too much of a coward to confront Chanyeol about it.

#154. Kyungsoo hates that he’ll always be too much of a coward to do anything about it.


	3. shit goes down, part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The problem—he has many problems, but this is like the daddy of his problems, fucking his other problems in their problematic asses with its problematic stallion cock—is that Kyungsoo can’t do anything about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the expositional chapter of the shit going down.  
> alternatively: aren't they supposed to be going to a wedding???????? where is the plot of this GOING

The day of the wedding comes much too quickly.

It’s only a few days, but it feels like a few seconds have passed from Chanyeol awkwardly propositioning Kyungsoo in the library to Kyungsoo fixing the collar of his suit in the mirror. Kyungsoo hasn’t really seen much of Chanyeol in the days leading up to this and Chanyeol doesn’t tell him why. And by ‘seen much of Chanyeol,’ Kyungsoo means ‘seen him naked.’ And by ‘seen him naked,’ Kyungsoo means ‘seen his genitals.’ And by ‘seen his genitals,’ Kyungsoo means ‘doing the nasty together.’ It’s not like they really hang out together or anything; when they do, it’s a desperate-times-calls-for-desperate-measures thing or a bonking-butts thing, so it’s not that weird that Chanyeol isn’t periodically messaging him about his Life Story. It would be weirder if he were, since all their texts are booty calls, mostly from Chanyeol, and the occasional, _hey, you kno where baek is? guess who just got PAID its pizza time boi!!!! Yeah, he’s up your asshole, asshole. haha lol gud one bro! sick burn!_ But by the power of deduction, Kyungsoo figures Chanyeol’s just off doing wedding stuff with his cousin, and haha, look at Kyungsoo, acting like he knows allllll about Chanyeol, as if they’re best friends! The fact is, Chanyeol is always going to have people he likes better than others, and Kyungsoo is never going to be one of those people. Oh, what a joy it is, being this self-deprecating.

The problem—he has many problems, but this is like the daddy of his problems, fucking his other problems in their problematic asses with its problematic stallion cock—is that Kyungsoo can’t do anything about it. He can’t put off the wedding. He can’t not go to the wedding. He’s actually a half-decent person who won’t ditch Chanyeol, but as much as he doesn’t want to go because of his bile-spewing, heart-palpitating, palm-sweating emotions, he can do the next best thing, which is not think about Chanyeol at all.

He doesn’t always think about Chanyeol, but Chanyeol has permanently taken residence in Area 51 of Kyungsoo’s brain. It’s like, he’ll be in the supermarket, buying groceries for dinner, and he’ll see a Rilakkuma limited edition pack of tofu and suddenly there will be stupidly long limbs flailing everywhere in his mind and dumb, wide puppy eyes and his mouth will decide, without his explicit permission, to do this thing called Smiling. Kyungsoo does not like non-consensual smiling. That shit is the uncoolest of shits. It’s five-day constipation shit by a caveman frozen in the Ice Age. He hates that he just involuntary feels these things and he can’t not feel these things and stop his cheeks from flushing pink whenever he feels these things and he sucks with words and feelings and everything is has Gone to the Shit. He hates not being in control.

It takes a monumental amount of effort to consciously stop himself from thinking about Chanyeol because there are things which remind him of Chanyeol everywhere. The shirts he leaves in Kyungsoo’s room because he’s a slob. Kris, because he’s tall and lanky and awkward and hits his forehead on the doorway a lot. A little doodle on a Post-It note of a giraffe Jongdae had pinned on the fridge with an arrow pointing to it saying, ‘KYUNGSOO’S TYPE!!!:) :) :)’ and another note scrawled under that saying, ‘I’m not into bestiality. I’m not you.’ and another note under that saying, ‘what can i say blue whales have massive dix:)’ The polaroid they’d taken during last summer’s trip to the beach where Chanyeol’s got this sick sunburn, Jongdae and Baekhyun are in full selfie mode and Kyungsoo is grumpily brandishing a bottle of sunscreen in his hand.

Fuck! Crushes are so stupid and dumb, and Kyungsoo is even stupider and dumber for having one on Chanyeol, of all people.

His phone beeps; Kyungsoo heaves a sigh because it’s probably Chanyeol, and he’s right. Shitlord Dicksucker, as christened by Baekhyun that one time Kyungsoo had gone to the toilet and accidentally left his phone unlocked on the table—flashes at him on the screen and Kyungsoo straightens up his tie before he reads the message: _when u coming over? i just got back from knitting club. r u ready yet?_

_Knitting club? You said it was ‘basketball practice.’_

_shit i typo i meant to say basketball club_

_Whatever, Grandma. I’m ready now anyway. I’ll start heading over._

After that, Kyungsoo turns his phone off. He can only handle so much Chanyeol in a given time and he’s just filled his quota for the hour. Possibly the whole day. Possibly the next century and a few years after that.

See, the thing is, Kyungsoo has always been aware of this vague attraction to Chanyeol because Chanyeol is the kind of guy everyone likes. The first thing you notice when you meet him and Kyungsoo is no exception, is that he is hot. Like, ridiculous supermodel levels of hot, with his long legs and his barely-there butt and charming smile. From one to ten on the scale of hotness, he’s at least a nine. Perhaps a nine-point-five on a good day. And he has a damn lot of good days. Then, Kyungsoo gets to _know_ him because he’s friends with Jongdae and Jongdae is Kyungsoo’s overenthusiastic roommate, who drags him out to parties every fortnight for the first five months of freshman year, and things go from bad to worse. Because yeah, Chanyeol is good at pretty much everything, but Kyungsoo can’t hate him for that. His 3.4 GPA isn’t as good as Kyungsoo’s 3.8, but he stays in the library until two AM every night to keep on top of his studies. He practises basketball until he can’t move another inch and he’s sweating through his shirt. He plays guitar until there are callouses on his fingers and piano until his fingers ache. He’s incredibly hardworking, incredibly good-looking, and incredibly confident because he has no reason not to be.

He’s completely the opposite of Kyungsoo, and completely out of Kyungsoo’s league. When Kyungsoo is reminded of Chanyeol, he is also reminded of this: that Chanyeol can, and will, do so much better than him. He’d thought he’d gotten over his complex in high school, but evidently, he hasn’t. It will always be like this and he doesn’t need to convolutedly analogise how much it sucks. It just sucks.

…No, wait, he does. It sucks like one of Santa’s whore elves on his big, hairy, old white guy testicles because Santa is always off travelling the world and he’s never at home anymore and the Claus’ marriage is slowly crumbling and Santa turns to affairs and self-destruction to cope because _I’m the only one who provides for this family, Mary, and_ this _is how you repay me?!??!?!!?! I WANT A DIVORCE, MARY!!!!_

Kyungsoo leaves the apartment with a twist in his gut and feels like a huge tool as he walks the ten blocks to Chanyeol’s dorm room in his fancy suit. Unlike everyone else, Chanyeol and Baekhyun have decided to stay in the university’s dorms this year too because they’d been too lazy to find an apartment and since it’s on campus, it means they can wake up five minutes before their classes start and still be on time. Kyungsoo’s apartment isn’t that far away either, but it’s on that cusp of being a little too far to walk and too close to take the bus or the taxi without getting judgemental looks. He decides to walk in the hope that the air will clear his mind and stop him from doing anything rash or stupid or stupidly rash. Fortunately, he manages to get to Chanyeol’s dorm without any mishaps, apart from bumping into Sehun, who takes one look at Kyungsoo, smirks, and says, “Cool thoot, doothbag.”

Kyungsoo looks him in the eye, says, “Mississippi,” and walks past without saying goodbye.

Chanyeol is not in the dorm when he arrives. Most of the time, their door is open because they like to show off to everyone that they have an en suite, and Kyungsoo really doesn’t get why they just didn’t rent an apartment like everyone else if they wanted a private bathroom. Oh wait, he does. It’s because they’re both assholes. On the other hand, Baekhyun, the biggest shitstain on the hotpants of life, is lying on his bed, decimating a fried chicken carcass with his oily fingers whilst watching his Sims have sex on his laptop. Great. Just the person Kyungsoo wanted to see.

(That, by the way, is poorly veiled sarcasm. Baekhyun is never the person Kyungsoo wants to see. Unless he’s in a coffin.)

“You’re disgusting,” says Kyungsoo in lieu of a greeting. “You’re like a greasy vulture.”

“Caw caw, edgelord,” says Baekhyun.

“Very realistic. Crows are going to flock to you in a mass exodus for some of your bird dong,” says Kyungsoo. “Where’s Chanyeol?”

“What, no ‘hi Baekhyun’? Where’s my hello? I am hurt! I thought we were besties!”

Ah, this again. Baekhyun has recently taken to calling Kyungsoo his best friend because it annoys the shit out of Kyungsoo. It is not Kyungsoo’s fault that his natural disposition towards Baekhyun is ‘irritated and homicidal.’ Baekhyun has a penchant for pissing people off. When Kyungsoo had met Chanyeol, he’d thought Chanyeol was the most annoying person on the planet, and then a week later, Kyungsoo had met Baekhyun, and suddenly, Chanyeol seemed perfectly pleasant.

Plus, Baekhyun is a fine arts student. Fine arts. Fine. _Arts._ As a hard science student, even thinking those two words sends shivers down Kyungsoo’s spine. Then again, Baekhyun doesn’t need to find a helpful degree; he’s hellbent on not getting a job once he graduates. His life plan is to slut his way through university, get a sugar daddy, sign a prenup and marry said sugar daddy, divorce him, travel the world and find true love in an exotic country, fall into crippling debt and die at the fresh, young age of thirty-three from autoerotic asphyxiation whilst he’s still beautiful and his bits are still firm, perky and un-saggy. He also has a girlfriend for some unknown reason that no one knows so Kyungsoo knows exactly how that plan’s going to work out—that is, not at all.

“Fine,” says Kyungsoo. “Hello, you rat bastard. Where’s Chanyeol?”

“And what about Jamiroquai? He’s a part of this family as much as you and me!”

“I am not saying hello to a fucking xerophyte.”

“He is my CHILD,” says Baekhyun, gesturing passionately at the potted cactus in the corner of the room, “and I would appreciate it if you did not dehumanise him like that. What, you think you’re better than him just ‘cause you’re sentient? Well, think again! I guess you shall never know the location of Chanyeol’s mysterious whereabouts for the rest of eternity. Never talk to me or my son ever again!”

Kyungsoo sighs so hard his soul leaves his mortal body.

“For fuck’s sake. Hello Jamiroquai,” he says to the cactus.

Baekhyun cackles. “Thanks for the blackmail material, dude. I’ve now got a video of you saying hello to a cactus. Jongdae’s gonna burst a dick vessel laughing when I send him this.”

“Where. Is. Chanyeol.”

“Relax, he’s just in the bathroom,” says Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo thinks about suffocating himself with the pillow on Chanyeol’s bed. It probably smells nice too because it’s Chanyeol’s and he uses nice cologne and Kyungsoo is really just a big, romantic sap on the inside. He wonders if Chanyeol would be averse to taking his corpse to the wedding. He hears that taxidermy’s increasingly realistic nowadays. Chanyeol wouldn’t even notice a thing.

“Ugh,” Kyungsoo says as he sits down on the edge of Chanyeol’s bed, scrunching up his nose in horror at Baekhyun shoving the chicken bone halfway down his throat and spraying flecks of breaded fried chicken crumbs on his sheets. “You truly are a revolting human being. You nauseate me.”

“Chillax man, you’ve never eaten on your bed before?”

“Not food,” says Kyungsoo mildly.

It takes a second for the realisation to drop like the bass in Skrillex’s Bangarang. “Oh my god, you are _dirty,_ ” laughs Baekhyun.

“I believe that is also what your mother proclaimed to me the previous evening whilst I was involved in carnal intercourse with her.”

“Oh shit,” says Baekhyun. “Hey Chanyeol, Kyungsoo just yo momma’d me!”

“That’s my boy!” Chanyeol calls back proudly.

He comes out of the bathroom in a suit with his sleeves folded up neatly, showing off his boner-inducing forearms, and his hair pushed up and away from his forehead. Kyungsoo’s heart literally skips a beat because he has long accepted that Chanyeol is a hot person, and what’s hotter than Chanyeol? Chanyeol in a suit. Kyungsoo suddenly feels very inadequate, like Chanyeol is the Statue of Liberty or something and Kyungsoo is a rundown fire hydrant that not even the unruliest of dogs would pee on. It probably doesn’t help that Kyungsoo has only seen Chanyeol in baggy T-shirts and oversized hoodies before and Chanyeol cleans up really nicely. Too nicely. Except for—

“Take that off,” says Kyungsoo.

“Woah,” says Chanyeol, holding up his hands, “I don’t think we have enough time for _that._ And Baekhyun’s here.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s not gay if it’s a threeway.”

“Your logic makes no sense,” says Kyungsoo. “And I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, take off your tie. It’s actually burning my eyes. Help me. I’m going blind.”

“What’s wrong with it?” says Chanyeol. “I like it. It’s…um, jazzy.”

It’s a pony tie. It’s a bright blue, yellow-printed tie. With ponies on it. And rainbows. With a generous helping of pink glitter.

“Take it off and put on a normal tie, or so help me I’m going to strangle you with it,” says Kyungsoo.

“And here, we witness the mating rituals of one wild giraffe and one small, wild-tempered penguin,” Baekhyun narrates. “A rare occurrence to be seen in public; this display of animalistic, aggressive foreplay is—“

“I hate you both,” says Kyungsoo. “Chanyeol, change your tie. Baekhyun, shut the fuck up.”

“Yessir,” they chime together. Chanyeol gives him a salute and rummages in his wardrobe and Baekhyun conspicuously checks out Chanyeol’s ass as he bends over because that is what a good heterosexual friend does. Evidently.

When Chanyeol turns back to them, his tie is a normal black colour and the pony atrocity of nature is shoved to the back of the closet, hopefully never to be seen again. He does look really good; Kyungsoo’s palms sweat a little and the eternal fires of endless rage in soul are slightly quelled by Chanyeol’s bright grin and the hand he offers to Kyungsoo. 

“Ready to go, princess?”

 _No,_ thinks Kyungsoo.

“Yes,” he says.

Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh. His mouth is such a traitor!

 


End file.
